Too Close
by Vickysg1
Summary: They had found their way into each other's arms and bed whenever one of them had come too close to death... John/Elizabeth


Too Close

Author: Vicky

E-Mail:

WebSite: perso.wanadoo.fr/vickyfics/index.html

Category: angst, smut

Summary: They had found their way into each other's arms and bed whenever one of them had come too close to death

Season/Sequel: season 2

Spoilers: Trinity (2-06)

Rating: NC-17

Archives: my website, others ask please, I never refuse

Disclaimer: I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money; I just do it for fun.

Author's Note: Written for the Sparky smutathon at notjustclosets on LJ.

You have a go !

They had found their way into each other's arms and bed whenever one of them had come too close to death.

Tonight, it was no exception.

This time it had been him, like too many other times. She could count on the fingers of one hand when they had been sleeping together because she had been the one who faced death. But she guessed that went with the job; in Atlantis, safe of a siege, an explosion or whatever else could be dangerous in the City, she was safer than John who was off-world, fighting Wraith and other enemies they'd made on a regular basis.

So it wasn't a surprise for either of them, when John opened his door to find Elizabeth standing on the other side. Without a word, he stepped aside to let her enter, and closed and locked the door behind her.

"I shouldn't have tried to convince you at McKay's demand. I should have guessed that there was something more to it when he didn't want to ask you himself."

"Shh," she just replied, putting a finger on his lips. "Let's not talk about this now; I'm not ready for this."

Closing the distance between them, she replaced her finger with her lips, capturing his in a slow, very sensual kiss. He responded to it, opening his mouth for her as she nipped at his bottom lip. Their tongues joined in the duel they had come to play so often these last months. Too often. Too many times they had come close to die in those past months. So far, they had been lucky, but both knew that one of these days, they'd run out of luck and one of them wouldn't be there anymore.

That was why they were doing it; they needed to feel they were alive, that the other was alive, because they knew that tomorrow one of them could die.

One of her hands came to rest on his nape, while the other went into his hair, lightly scraping his scalp with her fingernails. He moaned in her mouth, and she had to smile against his at his reaction. Pressed against him, she could feel him growing against her stomach, making her proud of the effect she had on him; she would never grow tired of that.

They broke up the kiss for lack of oxygen, and they rested their forehead against the other's for a second, before John's mouth attacked her neck. He knew how to put just enough pressure to please her, but not too much to leave a mark. Her left hand pressed against the back of his neck, keeping him where he was, as if he thought about stopping his ministrations. He could hear her panting heavily against his ear, and smiled against her skin. Nipping at her earlobe, his mouth then returned to hers, as her hands started to pull his t-shirt free from his pants. They separated just long enough for him to take it off, and drop it on the floor, where it was soon joined by Elizabeth's.

Their lips rejoined in another heated kiss, before Elizabeth's lips started to trail a series of kisses along his jaw, and then down his throat. She stopped at the hollow of his throat, licking the skin there for a moment, before continuing her road downwards. Her hands were already on his nipples, and they hardened under her touch. Soon her mouth replaced her hands, sucking at them, and John's breath caught in his throat; she certainly knew how to turn him on.

"Elizabeth," he managed to moan, just loud enough for her to catch it.

Finally, her mouth was leaving his nipple, and continued towards his stomach. He watched through heavy eyelids as she knelt on the floor before him, kissing the skin around his navel before moving lower. Her hands were already on the waistband of his pants, and she started to unbutton them, one button at a time, her fingers brushing his erection ever so slightly.

His breathing was ragged when she finally pushed his pants past his hips. Having taken a shower not so long before, he was barefoot, so Elizabeth just urged him to raise his feet one after the other and threw the pants away. From her point on the floor, she took in him standing there, only clad in his boxers, which couldn't hide his hard-on. She started to stroke him through his boxers, and John closed his eyes. He knew well where it was leading, and when she traced the waistband of his boxers with her fingers, he took her wrists and pulled her back to her feet. He didn't want it to be finished just yet.

He backed them towards the bed and sat down. Elizabeth stood between his legs, and he closed the gap between them and kissed her stomach, much like what she had done to him before. He hadn't shaved since the day before, and he knew by the way she reacted, that she liked the friction his stubble created on her skin. He tugged her still closer to him, until she had no other choice but to straddle his hips.

They kissed, and John's hands went to her back to unhook her bra. But it proved to be more difficult than he first thought. He broke the kiss and started to kiss the side of her neck, discreetly taking a look at her back at the same time.

"Oh come on," he whispered as the third try resulted in the bra clapping against Elizabeth's back.

Unable to control herself, she started to giggle, letting her head fall on his shoulder.

"That's not funny," he all but pouted, because a grown man in the Air Force just didn't pout.

"I'm sorry," she said, as her giggle transformed into laughter.

"Is it new?" he asked, trying once more to unhook her bra, but remaining unsuccessful.

"John Sheppard, the so-called womanizer, can't unhook a bra… If someone had told me that, I wouldn't have believed them…"

"You're done making fun of me?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him lightly on the lips. "Here," she said, unhooking the bra herself and handing it to him.

"I swear I could have done it."

"I know. And you can practise later, but for now…," she trailed off, but he knew what she meant.

Now that her breasts were free, and really, he'd show her next time that it was the bra and not him that was the problem, he could turn his attention to them. He flicked his thumbs over her nipples, before taking one of them in his mouth, sucking, nipping and kissing it, while his other hand fondled the other breast, until she couldn't stop herself from writhing over him, bringing their crotches in contact. He had to stop his ministrations, and close his eyes to try and control himself, or this could be over way before it even started; and he didn't want that. What he wanted was to come while buried deep inside of her, and not like this.

When he felt like he wouldn't explode in the next second, he turned his attention towards her other breast and gave it the same treatment as the first.

"John," she breathed. Both of her hands were buried in his hair, pushing his face closer to her, silently asking him to not stop what he was doing; he had no intention to.

John lied down on the bed, bringing Elizabeth with him, and turned them over so that he was on top. Repeating what she had done, he kissed his way down her body until he was stopped by the hem of her pants. He unfastened them quickly, and pushed them and her panties down her legs, only to be stop by her boots. Groaning, he untied the laces and quickly took them off, throwing them all the way across the room; he would have to try and convince her to not wear military issued boots because they're definitely not the most practical shoes for what they were doing. He pushed her pants and panties past her finally free feet, and kissed his way up her legs.

She parted her legs to give him access to where she wanted him the most, but he carefully ignored it, kissing her hips, lower belly, everywhere but there. He moved up her body and kissed her passionately. She moaned in his mouth, but soon gasped as he entered a finger without any warning. She was wet from their foreplay, and he knew that if he played it well, she could come soon. But he didn't want that for now; he wanted to keep teasing her, keep her on the edge. He added a second finger, and his thumb pressed against her clit in time with his fingers. She broke the kiss, panting, and he knew she was nearly there.

Withdrawing his hand elicited a moan of protest from her, but he quickly shed off his boxers and replaced it with his throbbing penis.

"Oh god," he groaned.

"Yeah, that…," Elizabeth replied in a breath, linking her ankles around his hips, pushing him even further within her. "John?"

"Yeah?"

"Top," she just said, and, understanding what she meant, he rolled them over so that he was the one underneath.

"Better?"

"Yeah," she replied, leaning down to kiss him.

She leaned back and balanced herself with a hand on his chest and another on the bed, and rose before sinking back down. His hands on her waist, he met her thrust for thrust. None of them were holding back, knowing that whenever they would come, the other would follow soon after; they were both wound up enough for that. As they were approaching their climaxes, their movements became more erratic, hard and fast had succeeded to long and slow.

John came first, soon followed by Elizabeth. As the last spasms rode through them, she collapsed against his chest; they were both sweaty and breathing heavily, and though they knew they should probably take a shower, neither wanted to move. His arms went around her as she rested her head in the crook of his neck.

"Stay the night?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"I shouldn't…," was her only answer and he nodded against her head; they both knew that they couldn't risk getting caught, not with the IOA breathing down their neck and wondering why she had stood by him, but he couldn't help but ask. "Don't blame yourself, John…"

"If I hadn't listened to Rodney…"

"He knew how to push the right buttons to get you to agree to follow his idea. Just as he knew that you would convince me. But don't blame him, either. I've dressed him down pretty good in my office; he knew he was wrong."

"I know… He came to find me after. I kinda wish I had been there when you dressed him down, I'm sure it would have proved very interesting."

"Ask anyone who was in the gateroom or the control room, I'm pretty sure they heard everything."

"That loud?"

"Yeah…"

"Now, that explains why you were so quiet tonight. Your voice must be strained…"

"I'll give you quiet!" she said, slapping him playfully on the arm, before sobering up. "It was close this time…"

"Not any closer than the other times."

"John…"

"I know, I know." He paused, before voicing the thoughts he had for the last several weeks. "It's not the same anymore, uh?"

"I guess not."

"Is it a good or a bad thing?" he needed to know, even if she didn't have the same opinion, at least he would know.

"A good, I think"

"Good… That's what I thought too," he reassured her, kissing the crown of her head.

"I should go…"

"We should sleep," John corrected her. "You have plenty of time to leave later. Sleep now."

She nodded silently, and after John had drawn back the covers, they settled on their sides on the narrow bed. His front was pressed to her back, one of his arms around her waist with her hand holding it where it was. He willed the lights off, blessing once more the gene that he didn't have to get up to do that.

"Good night," she murmured, her voice sounding sleepy.

"'Night, 'Lizbeth."

Fini.


End file.
